38 Million Problems
by CoraxOnyx
Summary: G1 Set directly after the events of The Ultimate Doom.  As the Autobots are hard at work repairing Earth's shattered infrastructure.  Ironhide discovers a generous donation that may wind up being more trouble than it's worth.


Disclaimer: All Transformer characters and settings are property of Hasbro/Takara. This work is fan fiction and is not intended for profit.

Author's Note: This story is set directly after the G1 first season episode "The Ultimate Doom."

38 Million Problems

The Autobot Ironhide walked purposefully through the great metal halls of the Ark. He clutched a datapad in one hand and nodded curtly in answer to the greetings of his comrades in arms.

"What's up with Ironhide?" asked Windcharger of Brawn.

"Dunno," the bulky yellow mech replied. "He looks anxious or something, that's not like him."

"True." Windcharger replied. Ironhide was usually the most confident of Autobots, given more to impatience than anxiety. "Maybe one of the shipments came up short."

"If it did, Jazz and Prime will work it out with the humans." Brawn was confident. "We are helping them after all."

"Right."

Ironhide was indeed making his way to the Autobot Commander and his officers. Optimus Prime courteously paused in his status briefing as Ironhide approached.

"Prime, ah was wonderin' if you, Jazz and Sparkplug could help me with one of the things that came in the shipment yesterday. Ah don't rightly know what to do with it." Ironhide showed his commander the datapad. "This one, SF 37-5028."

Optimus Prime looked at the datapad. "Of course, I'd be happy to help, Ironhide. What is the matter with it?"

"Well, that's part of the problem, ah'm not sure if I want to say. Can you just come back to the supply depot when you get a chance and bring Jazz and Sparkplug? Probably Prowl and Bumblebee, too." He rubbed the back of his neck assembly.

"Sure thing, old friend, we'll be there in about 20 minutes."

Half an hour later a curious and select group gathered in the Ark's supply depot. The room was large and lined with sturdy metal shelving containing everything from bins of nuts and bolts to entire engines and chassis parts. Optimus Prime and his second in command, Prowl, stood by the door to the interior of the Ark. Jazz lounged in one of the work station chairs. Bumblebee and Sparkplug Witwicky took up positions near the shelves as Ironhide gestured grandly to a modest object.

A single wooden pallet stood in the middle of the receiving area. It was stacked solidly to a height of about four feet, wrapped in white plastic, and clearly marked as coming from the United States Department of Defense.

Ironhide raised his datapad again. "Ah found the listing on the manifest, Prime. But ah honestly don't know what to do with it."

"What is it?" asked the little Autobot spy, Bumblebee.

"See for yerself." Ironhide tossed the little 'bot a razor knife. "Jest be careful cuttin' into it."

Bumblebee delicately and deftly disassembled the corner of the package. "It looks like paper." He held up a small bundle of dingy green sheets.

Sparkplug, the only human present, burst out laughing. "I should have known!" he snickered, pounding his knee. He walked up to the pallet and took the paper bundle from Bumblebee. "Five thousand." He indicated the band holding the bundle together.

"Five thousand what?" asked the Autobot tactician, Prowl.

"Five thousand dollars. This entire pallet is made up of bundles of cash in packages of five thousand dollars each. Given the size of the pallet, I'd guess that it equals…"

"38 million, four hundred thousand American dollars," broke in Prowl, who had no patience for estimates. "That is a very large sum of money."

"Do you think it was an error?" asked Optimus Prime.

"Nah, man," Jazz sounded amused. "I think it's intended to smooth our way, y'know. Make it easier for us to do our repairs and stuff."

"You mean it's intended to be a bribe?" Prowl asked darkly. "We have dealt honestly with the American government. Do they take us for Decpticons?"

"No, no." Jazz replied, waving his hands in negation. "They…Sparkplug, can you explain it?"

"I don't know. The government doesn't always make sense to me. Maybe you should just call the people at the Pentagon and ask them."

"That's a good idea," said Optimus Prime. "I'll contact them right now." He strode over to the closest work terminal. "Teltran One call the Pentagon," he said to the monitor.

A moment later a crisp male voice said, "Pacific Command, General Hawk's office, how may I direct your call sir or ma'am."

"This is Optimus Prime, I wish to speak to General Hawk."

"Please hold, sir."

A second later a gruff male voice said, "Optimus Prime, what can I do for you?"

"I have a question for you, General."

"Go ahead."

"We received your latest shipment of supplies for the ongoing repairs in the area, and we discovered an unexpected item. Did you mean to send us over thirty eight million dollars?"

"Of course I did."

"You did? May I ask why?" Prime was surprised.

"Standard procedure. You will be needing additional supplies, encounter unforeseen expenses, it's inefficient for us to send you every little thing you need, so we give you part of the project budget in cash to allow you to micro-purchase what you need on the spot."

"I don't know that much about Earth's economies, General, but thirty-eight million dollars does not strike me as being "micro" by any means."

"I guess not, "he sighed. "Honestly, we're not quite sure what to do. You require so much less support than our usual operations. We set the budget for the project assuming it would be like a typical military engineering and recovery operation. However, you only need energy and supplies. It's substantially more efficient than we bargained for. But if we cut the budget, or even worse send the money back, Congress will try to allocate us less money next time. I'm sure you understand how expensive it is to maintain an elite fighting force, Optimus Prime."

"Yes, I do, General." Prime's deep voice was rueful.

"So, we decided to pass the extra along to you. You can use it to acquire whatever you need for the project, and if you spend the money in the areas in which you are working it will help the local economy. That's what a lot of communities will need after suffering so much loss and destruction. And, well, you are adding value by your work. You should be compensated for it, somehow. It's the American Way."

"I see. Thank you for your time, General," the Autobot Commander replied formally.

"Good afternoon to you, Optimus Prime. Goodbye." The general disconnected the line with a "click".

Optimus Prime turned to his officers. "Well, now we know it wasn't a mistake."

"And it wasn't a bribe," said Jazz.

"But it's still a problem," finished Ironhide.

"Perhaps," said Prime thoughtfully. "We've been surviving by raiding and barter for too long…" he shook himself out of his reverie. "We can put some of the funds aside for an operations budget, and some will have to go into the current project. The General had a good point about spending the money to help the places we are working in. And I think a portion of it should be divided up and given to the troops."

"What?" exclaimed Prowl, obviously thinking of what some of the Ark's more well known troublemakers could get up to with a ready supply of cash.

"I think it would be a good idea to encourage our people to participate in the humans' culture, and money is obviously an important part of it. Who knows how long we will be on Earth. Money is a mark of value in the local society and you can't say that we don't value our Autobots," said the Commander encouragingly.

"That's true," chimed in Jazz. "I like the idea, Prime. It'll be good for morale and might get some of them to stir their skidplates out of the Ark for more than routine patrol."

"Getting to know the local people better might help us against the Decepticons," put in Bumblebee.

"Yeah," said Ironhide. "Ah never thought of helpin' people out by buyin' things, but it makes a lot of sense."

"Prowl?" Optimus Prime turned to his 2IC.

"I'm wondering if we can get some Autobot sized charge cards. Those bills are too easy to lose and too hard to keep track of," mused the tactician. "If we digitize everything we'll find it easier to head off the problems before they start."

"I'm sure you will find a way to counteract the foreseeable problems," said Jazz. "But I wonder what ones will crop up that we never anticipated."

"We'll just have to wait and see," replied Optimus Prime.


End file.
